Brisk blue wavelengths penetrate darkness,
Masking a crimson stream’s flushed hue.
Such waters rush towards the beating drum
Until, at once! Mass impedes impending flow.
No song subsists from the beating drum.
Some hearts persist once the curing comes.
Alas, not one shall regain all it retained—
A feeble drum maintains a feeble beat;
A feeble heart is all that remains.
No comments:
Post a Comment